


shade from the afternoon sun

by 100demons



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-05
Updated: 2013-06-05
Packaged: 2017-12-14 00:35:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/830666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/100demons/pseuds/100demons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Riko’s curled up on the foot of the bed, sunlight gilding her hair with honey. They play poker, timed to the rhythm of her breathing, red and black splayed over the sheets of the hospital bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	shade from the afternoon sun

**Author's Note:**

> Also available in [Slovak](http://rammsteinandyaoi.blog.cz/1509/shade-from-the-afternoon-sun), thanks to the wonderful Hentai no Kame!

Riko’s curled up on the foot of the bed, sunlight gilding her hair with honey. They play poker, timed to the rhythm of her breathing, red and black splayed over the sheets of the hospital bed. 

Hyuuga rests his chin on his arms, wrapped around the plastic backing of his char. Kiyoshi watches him watch Riko, eyes flicking over to the sleeping body on his right every so often. Not as often as if he had a bad hand, so Kiyoshi folds and presses the cards down on the thin mattress. 

“I yield,” he says quietly, so as to not wake her. 

Hyuuga snorts, pushes his glasses up his nose and picks a peppermint candy from his new winnings. “New game?”

Kiyoshi shrugs and leans back in his chair, ignoring the familiar ache in his knee. “Snack break?”

“What about all those burgers you stuffed yourself with during lunch?” But Hyuuga stands up and stretches, arms curved up and over like he’s about shoot another three-pointer for Serin. He looks away and reaches out for his crutches, fingers fumbling a little on the slick handles.

“Be careful, idiot,” and Hyuuga’s next to him, one arm looped around his crutches and the other steadying his elbow. “You wake up Coach and your knee’s not gonna be the only thing hurting.”

“Can’t afford to be out for more than a year,” Kiyoshi says easily and accepts the crutches with a bow of his head. The hallway outside is too bright and loud compared to his room and Kiyoshi blinks, reeling a little. 

“You need to sit down or something?”

“Nah, I’m good,” Kiyoshi grins. “I’m not sick or something, just got a banged up knee. Last one there buys!” He doesn’t see Hyuuga smile but he knows it’s there anyway as he makes his way down the hallway and towards the vending machine. “I win,” he grins, plopping himself down on the bench.

“Yeah, yeah,” Hyuuga grouses, fishing coins out of his pockets. The machine groans and shudders as it burps out two Pocaris, cold to the touch.

“Ahhh, so good,” Kiyoshi sighs. “I needed this to cheer me up after that losing streak. You took all of my candy.”

“You took my _watch!_ ”

“You’re the one who bet it,” Kiyoshi says placidly and hides his grin with a mouthful of soda when Hyuuga bumps shoulders with him. “I’ll give it back if you give me back my bag of konpeito,” he adds.

“Hmph,” Hyuuga grunts.

It’s sweet and fizzy on his tongue and he makes it last as long as he can in order to savor the taste. But it goes away soon enough and he’s left with an empty mouth. “Hey, Captain.”

It’s good that they’re sitting side by side so he doesn’t have to see Junpei give him one of those looks, the kind that look straight at him and into him, past his smiles and his laughs. He can feel it though, drilling straight into his profile.

“I don’t think I can come back to school.”

A beat, then two and then, “I know.”

It’s what makes him such a good captain. Kiyoshi doesn’t regret his choices; not then and not now. “The rehab’s intense, I’ll be in and out of the hospital for weeks. So I guess I won’t even be able to attend and watch practice like we planned.” There’s a hard lump in his throat and he sips some more of his Pocari, trying to swallow it down. “Or any of your tournaments.”

“So then you better work hard and make sure you get better.” Kiyoshi turns his head in time to see Hyuuga grin, eyes bright under his glasses. “So you can play basketball with us again.” Hyuuga crushes his empty Pocari can, tendons jumping in his wrist. “And don’t forget, you owe me a one on one too,” he adds, his grin turning sharp and toothy. 

“Yeah, we’re going to have a lot of fun, aren’t we?” Kiyoshi grins back. “The team better be ready by the time I get back.”

“Of course they will, I’m coaching them aren’t I?” Riko says tartly, hands on her hips. 

“Oi! Coach--”

“Riko--”

“I thought I told you not to have meaningful heart to hearts without me,” she says, leaning forward, eyes gleaming dangerously. 

“Er,” Hyuuga and Kiyoshi say.

“I thought so,” Riko says and crosses her arms over her chest. “So I’m assuming while I was _not here_ , Teppei told you about him not being able to attend school on a regular basis?”

Hyuuga is doing an impressive imitation of a dying fish. “How did you--”

“I talked to his physical therapist,” Riko says. “As Coach, I have to be on top of everything before my player even thinks about it. Or decides to mope about it for days without telling anyone.” Kiyoshi rubs the back of his neck and wilts a little under the strength of her impressive glare.

“I was going to?” he hazards.

“Boys,” she snorts. “Hyuuga and I’ll be by your house every week with assignments so you don’t fall behind and repeat a year. We’re going to have kouhai next year to boss around, you don’t want to be stuck with them, do you Teppei?” 

“No?” he says, making it sound more like a question than an answer.

“Good.”

Clasping her hands together, she squeezes herself into the tiny gap between him and Hyuuga, her thighs pressed against the two of them. “Oh, Pocari!” she says and snags Kiyoshi’s half-empty can. “Ahh, so good,” she smacks her lips and leans her head on Hyuuga’s shoulder. 

He can feel Hyuuga’s sigh in the way Riko’s body moves with the motion, the three of them pressed together so tightly, he can barely remember where he ends and the others begin. _My team_ , he thinks, his hand on his knee grazing Riko’s bare thigh, Riko’s arm pressed against Junpei’s, Junpei’s foot tangled with his own. 

The year doesn’t seem as long as it did before.


End file.
